Little One
by TwinTrouble
Summary: Oneshot. Basically plotless. Essentially a musing on clan life from the eyes of kittypets, with a bit of humour and ‘aww’ mixed in.


**Summary: **Oneshot. Basically plotless. Essentially a musing on clan life from the eyes of kittypets, with a bit of humour and 'aww' mixed in.

**A/N:** Twin1: Okay, this is our very first Warriors fic, so be nice. We used our own cats as models for these novel characters, so you may see similarities between them and our next warrior story, if we ever get it up… (glares at perfectionist sister)

Twin2: Oh, be quiet. And a note: all the stuff the cats have done/do in this story our cats have actually done. Sigh.

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Demi trotted down the street, tail swinging gracefully back and forth behind her. Passing many gardens and sidestepping a Twoleg kit, she paused for a moment to lap from a puddle and continued up to an elderly cat sitting upright in the sun outside his house.

He had once been black, but age had turned him a mid-grey colour. Demi approached quietly from behind, hoping to surprise him.

"Hello, Princess Demi," he said calmly without looking around or even twitching his ears.

"Big Puss," she replied, sitting next to him on the warm bricks. His eyes were closed, she noted with annoyance. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.

Big Puss chuckled, still unmoving. "I was not always a run-down old kittypet, you know. My mother taught me many things. One of which was to use my nose."

"Right," said Demi sheepishly. She should know that!

Big Puss finally opened his eyes and looked at her. "You're as beautiful as always," he purred. Demi bumped her nose against his side.

"You think flattery will get you anywhere," she teased. Big Puss opened his mouth to reply, but a frantic mewling cut him off. A young Twoleg female spoke some Twoleg talk, and the screen door opened and closed again. An orange blur shot out and up to sit on the other side of Big Puss.

"You're late," he said without looking around.

"I know," panted the newcomer, "I overslept, and then my Twoleg was patting me…"

"Our Twolegs mean well, but you must try to train your one better," scolded Big Puss, "Let her know that no means no."

"I know," said the bright orange and slightly overweight tom cat. Demi twitched her whiskers, counting four 'knows' in two sentences. The newcomer glanced at her.

"Oh, hey, Demi," he said cheerfully. Demi purred.

"Hey Milo. How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thanks. My Twoleg got me a new fluffy bed to sleep in, and it's really comfy."

"Well, now that King Milo is awake…" said Big Puss, throwing a reproachful glance towards the large tom, "what was it you wanted to talk to us about, princess?"

He spoke the last words towards Demi, who sighed.

"My name is Demi, Big Puss. Princess is my sister, and she looks nothing like me."

It was true. Princess was a ginger-and-white queen, while Demi was a slight silver tabby, streaked with black and white in a distinctive pattern. It was impossible to mistake her for any other cat, particularly not the much larger Princess: the markings were too unique.

"Ah, but you are a princess. Princess Demi," said the old tom. Demi twitched her whiskers.

"And you are Duke Big Puss, and this is King Milo!" she said, eyes laughing. Then she lowered her nose to the ground and added, "All hail King Milo!"

"Yes," said Big Puss dryly, before Milo could comment, "Well, forgive me for not bowing too. Joints not what they used to be, you know…" Then he put his mouth close to Demi's ears and said in a carrying whisper, "Besides, his ego is bad enough as it is. If I bow, he won't be worth living with."

"What was it you wanted to tell us, Demi?" asked Milo, shoving between her and Big Puss.

Demi flicked her ears at him, a gesture of annoyance, before swiping one paw over her ears, flattening the fur there. "You remember, I was part of a litter?"

"Yes," said Big Puss, somewhat patiently.

Milo was less patient. "Your point being?"

"You remember my big sister Princess, right?" This was a mousebrained question, considering the ginger queen had been at the foremost of all three cats' thoughts only moments before. She twitched her whiskers and sneezed. "She spoke to my brother last week, big brother Rusty."

"Really?" said Big Puss interestedly: Demi's family had a curious history. "How is he doing, the little spitfire?"

"He's vanished."

Milo stared at her. "What do you mean? No cat vanishes. They just find new Twolegs, if they don't like where they are or if the Twolegs won't train right."

The silver tabby shook her head impatiently. "No, Milo, you chubby furball. He didn't vanish, exactly, but… he went to live with the wildcats in the forest."

The ginger's eyes widened, a lot. "Wow. You find his body yet?"

Demi shot him a glare, and Big Puss rolled his eyes. "He's Rusty. I'm sure he's fine. But… she said he was too thin, and looking a bit worn. I guess life in the forest would be rough. But…" She sighed, ears flattening. "I guess I'm worried about him. It's winter soon – he'll freeze his fur off."

Big Puss shook himself, standing up; you could almost hear his joints creaking. "Let's walk, before I stiffen up too much."

"I mean, I shouldn't worry," Demi said, strolling easily beside him, Milo padding on her other side. "He's big brother. He's Rusty. He's fine, I'm sure he's fine. I mean, the wildcats don't often fight each other, unless they're hungry, or, or there's trouble with Twolegs, or kittypets, or each other, or, or…"

"How would they get enough to eat?" Milo wondered aloud, cocking his head.

Big Puss rolled his eyes again. "King Milo, not all cats have their dinner served to them on gold platters. The wildcats hunt their prey, and catch it."

"My dinner plate isn't gold!" said Milo indignantly. Then, after a short pause, "It's yellow!"

"And they catch a lot of it," Demi added, springing onto a nearby wall and stretching out. "They're very good at hunting, better even than me!"

"Wouldn't take much," Milo muttered under his breath, and Demi hissed at him, taking a swipe at his ears – she was a good shot, too, as Milo remembered when he yelped with surprise.

"Just because you're too fat to catch anything," she meowed tauntingly, turning away, making her collar jingle. "Ugh – stupid thing. That's something else! You can't catch dead mice, and I can catch birds even with this stupid bell on, hah!"

Milo shook his uncollared head. "_You_ didn't train your Twolegs right," he said loftily, in a remarkable imitation of Big Puss.

Big Puss swung an ancient paw at him, and only narrowly missed. "Don't cats have any respect for their elders anymore?" he spat irritably, before turning back to an amused Demi. "Now, what do you mean by 'big brother', princess? If you're from the same litter, surely you're the same age?"

Demi shrugged, jumping off the wall again and absorbing the leap so that her bell didn't tinkle. "Technically, yes, but I was born last, and plus, I was the runt. Even now compared to the others I'm tiny, and it was the same back then. Rusty was always really big, but he didn't shove me around like Soot or Ruby. He was big brother, always. Even when we got bigger he was my big brother." She flicked her tail in remembrance, eyes misting over. "He was always so big…"

"Well then, shouldn't 'big brother' be able to take care of himself?" Milo asked, a slight grumble in his voice. He didn't like being snubbed.

Demi sneered at him delicately. "Tell me, _King _Milo, have you ever looked beyond your borders into the forest?"

He seemed taken aback. "Yeah, loads of times."

"Well, _King _Milo, have you ever walked in those woods?"

He shook his head violently. "Not me, heck no! Those wildcats'd rip any cat to shreds!"

"Big Puss?"

"Once, when I was much younger, although I lived to regret it," the old cat mewed, looking faintly amused.

"Well then, _King Milo, _have you ever fought one of the wildcats?"

"What do you take me for, an idiot?"

"Yes, actually, but that's beside the point. I fought one when he thought the sparrow I'd caught would be a good meal. I didn't want to give it up – it's bloody hard to catch birds when you're belled – so I fought him." She flicked her ears away from her head, showing off a scar that was mostly hidden in her fur, running behind her ear down her neck. "That's why I was kept in for a few weeks a while ago: he slashed me."

"Whoa," said Milo, eyeing the scar nervously, while Big Puss sniffed it carefully, surprised at the she-cat's defiance. "Would it really have been worth the fight for a scruffy little bird? I mean, he got away, right?"

Demi spat fiercely back, "It was a nice plump sparrow, thanks! And it _was _worth the fight, and that tom will be remembering me for a good while!"

"So what's your point?" Milo asked, looking perplexed.

Instead of answering immediately, Demi turned to Big Puss, demanding, "Does he even _have_ a brain?!"

"He did, once," Big Puss said mildly, "but it turned to mush when he started eating three times his bodyweight every day."

"You stay out of this."

"Well, King Milo, my point is that those wildcats can fight and deal some serious injuries," said Demi grimly, scratching carefully at her ear. "He was going easy on me because I was so small – I could tell – but I got clawed up pretty bad. What'll they do to Rusty?"

"If_ you_ can fight off a wildcat I'm fairly sure your big, strong, scary brother can." Milo had crossed claws with Rusty once before. It had not ended well for said king.

"You really are an idiot," said Big Puss in amazement. Then, turning to Demi with a kind look on his face, he said, "Don't listen to him, princess, _I _understand where you're coming from. The only voice he listens to is the one from his stomach region saying 'Feed me! Feed me! Eat until you explode!'"

"Shuddup."

"How would Rusty handle being in such a big group of cats?" Demi wondered aloud, looking up at the sky. "He was, well, always a bit independent in the litter… I don't know how he'd do with so many cats around him, 'specially since he's all grown up now. I wouldn't like it. I mean, I'm okay with you two, assuming Milo's not having a mousebrain-moment, but I don't like lots of cats. Makes me feel like I'm gonna be attacked from all sides." The fur on her spine stood on end at the thought and she unsheathed her claws a little, arching her back.

Milo shrugged lazily, lying down on the sun-warm cement. "I don't think I'd mind. More body heat at night, and anyway, they can't be any worse than Twolegs. At least you can reason with most cats to give you more pawroom."

"It'd be tiring, sharing a nest with young ones," Big Puss groaned, not lying down himself: he might not be able to stand up again. "You'd never sleep a wink."

Milo frowned slightly, tip of his tail twitching. "Good point."

"Then again, it'd be nice knowing someone's got your back in a fight," Demi mused, sharpening her claws absently on an unfortunately nearby shrub. "Never good, knowing you don't know who's behind you."

"May I ask when you have been getting into such fights to make you think this way?" Big Puss demanded.

"Yes, but you won't get any answer aside from I swear I didn't start it." Demi paused to think, batting unconsciously at a half-shredded leaf. "I bet he wouldn't like following orders, though. Y'know, from the leader. Rusty wouldn't like that at all."

"Neither would I," Milo agreed. "I like being my own cat, eating what I please, when I please."

"Which is everything, anything and anytime," Big Puss muttered, before meowing over the ginger's complaints, saying, "Sometimes it's best to have someone else telling you what to do, best to have an outside view on what's going on. I'd have to agree, though. Never liked the idea of following what another cat told me, no questions asked."

"What about those cats they say can fix problems," Milo asked, his voice somewhat hushed, "that the Twolegs have to take us to the vet for? Y'know, bellyache, rat bites, cuts, infections, that sort of stuff?"

Big Puss flicked his tail disdainfully. "Don't listen to that tosh," he said derisively. "If any cat ever tells you to eat some plant, you ignore him and let your Twolegs take you to the vet, you hear me? Medicine cats have no idea what they're on about, and would as soon feed you a deathberry as cure you," he snapped violently.

Demi wisely took the conversation in a different direction. "I guess some cats like it," she ventured, "Like that new loner, out on the farm. Ravenpaw, his name is. He's clan born, and likes the whole system."

"If he likes it so much, why'd he leave?" asked Milo. Demi shrugged.

They had reached the mysterious forest. Nothing separated them from the trees but a flimsy Twoleg fence. This was the territory of another kittypet, but he knew Big Puss, Milo and Demi, so they were welcome here. The three of them sprung up onto the fence, Big Puss struggling to jump and Milo teetering wildly on the fence as his large body weight wobbled with the effort of the leap.

"You're making the fence shake!" complained the elder.

Once they were all settled side-by-side, Demi said, "Do you think he's happy? Rusty, I mean."

"I hope so, princess," said Big Puss gently.

"Princess – my sister – said he looked well," said Demi hopefully, "She even… even gave him her son to mentor, and to raise as part of the clan."

Big Puss gasped and Milo fell backwards off the fence in shock.

"Is she crazy?" Big Puss demanded, ignoring the pained mew from below. "Sending a defenceless kit into the forest? That's… that's…"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said Milo, managing to leap onto the fence again and heave himself to the top.

"This coming from the same cat who recently spent twenty minutes miaowing at the side of the door that doesn't open," Big Puss shot back.

"Toms!" growled Demi good-humouredly, "Either they're disappearing into the forest with savages, or they're falling off fences and insulting one another."

"Darn right," said Milo smugly, making Demi almost fall off the fence herself as she howled with laughter.

A Twoleg's yowl came to them on the wind and Big Puss jerked upright. "Yow! That's our Twoleg calling!" He stood up and stretched out his back legs as well as he could while Milo was bouncing on the fence. "We better run! See you later, princess!"

"See you," she called back, but they were already running.

Shaking her head at the toms' behaviour, she turned her gaze back to the forest. Where was her 'big brother' now? Was he happy? Was he warm? Was he dry, fed, safe? Had he been accepted by the wildcats? And what about the kit? What would happen to him? What had already happened to Rusty?

Quickly, before she could change her mind and bolt home, she jumped down from the fence and strode purposefully into the trees. She had only gone a few paces before deciding that she would only get lost looking for him and, fate being what it was, she would only ever find him when she _wasn't _looking for him.

She sighed, ears flattening in discouragement. What did Rusty see in this place? she wondered tiredly, sniffing at a plant she thought she recognised as poppy: her Twoleg grew them. It was dark and cold, not very friendly, but also there were some wonderful bird smells from nests overhead. She would have climbed the trees without a second thought, except it was hard to climb without setting off her bell, and she was really too tired to try.

_What am I doing here?_ she thought.

Then suddenly, a heavy, yowling object landed on her back. Sharp claws pricked her, and Demi felt a thrill of fear as she realised she was being attacked by a wildcat – again. Screeching, the attacker clawed and bit every part of his opponent he could reach, while the attacked tried desperately to throw him from her back.

She finally managed it, and spun to face the ginger tom cat. There was something about him… then it hit her, even as he scraped his claws over her face. _Rusty!_ This was her precious brother. She refused to run away, and so had no choice but to attack right back. Partially blocking his next blow, she lunged at him, managing to land a stinging bite on his neck before a hard blow to her stomach sent her flying. She landed two foxlengths away, and Rusty approached slowly, panting.

Demi, lying on the ground, saw him hesitate for a split second. In that hesitation she saw a slim chance. She suddenly yowled loudly, "Rusty, you mouse-brain! Don't you know me?"

He hesitated again. Looking carefully at his face, she saw recognition flit through his eyes.

"Demi?" he said uncertainly.

Before Demi could respond, a white fluff ball bounced up to them, squealing in excitement.

"An intruder! Can we chase her out, Fireheart? Can we bite and scratch and see her out of our territory?"

"No, Cloudpaw," said Rusty patiently, approaching and leaning down to touch his nose to hers. "No. This is Demi. My little sister."

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**A/N: **Twin1: Hoped you like it! Review and tell us!

Twin2: Please do. She's about to explode with excitement, and that would make a big mess. One which I would then have to clean up.


End file.
